Exile
by Lilliterra
Summary: Keith has only just met his Galran mother and now they're stranded together in the quantum abyss, struggling to survive. When Keith becomes ill, he must come face-to-face with his abandonment issues. Canon-compliant.
1. Survival

It had been one week since they found Cosmo. One week since he fell from the heavens like a meteor in a streak of white light.

That evening Keith had fed him bits of the creature they had killed earlier that day. It tasted like crab, and that night, at least, there had been enough to go around.

"He follows you around as though he was tame," Krolia observed, sitting opposite the fire. "That is good. He will help us hunt."

"He's not quite big enough to hunt yet," said Keith, scratching the puppy behind its blue-tufted ear.

He still thought of her as Krolia. He wasn't quite ready to think of her as "Mom" yet. One week since he found Cosmo, scarce ten days since he'd found out he had a mother. He _wanted _to call her "mom". But something about it just wasn't quite _there _yet.

As a kid, he'd seen his classmates' mothers, when they picked them up from school. He'd even met some of them. They treated him like a bad influence. But they seemed to love their children. Normal kids had mothers. So why didn't he?

He'd wanted a mother. He'd _desperately _wanted a mother. Sometimes he'd wondered what she would be like. Would she pack his lunchboxes with a note? Kiss him before he left for school?

In the foster homes he'd lived with many families, none of them his. He'd met a number of women, some of whom had given him permission to call them "mom" and some who had asked him to do so. He never did. They weren't. After all, they were going to leave him too, after a little while. So why bother getting attached?

And this… this wasn't that, but it _felt _like that. In quiet moments he would have to shake his head and remind himself, _no, this isn't a dream, yes, this is your real mother. _Because it didn't feel real. Not yet. So he still referred to her as Krolia, and Krolia hadn't made any demands on him in that department.

One of the first problems that had presented itself on the back of the whale (for lack of a better name for the creature) was what they were going to wear. You could, of course, only wear the suits for so long before they got too sweaty and dirty to bear. At first they'd just counted their blessings that the whale produced breathable air and hosted a biome with edible plants.

But clothing and shelter would soon be necessary—a light sprinkle had shown that it could _rain _here. Along with rain, there was running water. Krolia had found a couple of gourds – she had a better intuition for which alien plants were edible than he did. Once they were hollowed out, she filled the skins with water and kept them in the camp. The water could be boiled over the fire using the gourd skins as pots, to ensure it was safe to drink.

He tried not to think about the fact that they were literally drinking the whale's sweat.

"I am going to hunt again," said Krolia. "We are nearly out of food."

Keith almost protested that it was his turn to do the hunting, and besides, she should spend her time on plants, since she was better with them, but he stopped himself. While she was gone he could go to the river and wash his suit. It was a veritable germ factory.

"All right," he said. "See you in a few hours."

She disappeared off into the tall grasses and Keith made a quick pass to be sure the campsite was set in order. Both water gourds were shut, Cosmo couldn't get into them. The third one just had plants and fruits. She was right, they were all out of meat.

Cosmo whined.

"Come on, boy." He slapped his leg. Cosmo jumped up and ran after him as he left the camp.

The river was only a short distance away; about three hundred feet from their fire pit. It wasn't visible from the camp, fortunately, which gave a little privacy. Besides, he knew he'd have several hours at least before Krolia got back. Keith stripped the suit off, one piece at a time, and washed each piece. He'd never seen the crabs down here, but he still felt vulnerable not wearing the suit. At least Cosmo was with him. Cosmo tilted his head as though asking what Keith was doing.

"Just washing my clothes."

He started with the legs, then the arms, the breastplate. He'd better wash himself too. He stripped off the sweaty undersuit and waded in up to his waist. Damn, this water was cold. His lungs contracted involuntarily and he made a _hoof_ sound. Cosmo barked.

"Come on in, the water's fine." He smirked and shivered. It still felt good. He could feel the dirt and sweat starting to separate from his skin.

Cosmo dipped a paw in the water probingly, and then drew it back, shaking his fur.

They really should get other clothing. It would be better to not COMPLETELY wear out the suits. They would need them again if they ever got where they were going. But it would have to be something warm. Dressing up in fig leaves like Adam was kind of a non-starter for him.

Eventually, though, he had to put the suit back on. Keith started back up to camp. It wasn't long before Krolia showed up. She was dragging a large, furry creature, and she had a smile on her face. "I think I've just solved our clothing problem."

The creature was brown and had horns, and resembled a bear on the smaller side. The horns were interesting, and Keith was sure they could be shaped into bone tools if necessary. He saved them carefully. However, the most important part by far was the pelt.

He and Krolia worked together, stripping the skin from the bear with their Marmoran blades. He couldn't wait until they were done. He was still cold from that river.

It wasn't really a bear, of course. It didn't have a name. None of the species here had names. Not the whales, not the crabs, not even Cosmo. Cosmo was like… some kind of space wolf. They were all undiscovered, then, he'd have to name them himself. Maybe he really was like Adam.

They cut the pelt in to two pieces. Keith had never made clothes before. He had no idea how to put it together into anything wearable. It was heavy, at least fifteen pounds, and they didn't have thread. Or string. Or a needle.

"I'll figure out how to sew something," said Krolia. "Until then, these are just blankets."


	2. The Cave

When he woke up the next morning, she was already awake. That was typical. They were both early risers, but he had the feeling he'd slept longer than usual this time.

Day and night were strange on the whale's back. It turned in wide curves as it passed stars and nebulas. They were almost always bathed in a perpetual twilight, melting sometimes into broad scorching day or brief periods of blackest night.

However, he knew that Krolia had been awake for a while because she had already fashioned a needle from a shard of the bear's horn. Now she was experimenting with plant fibers, tugging them between her fingers to find out which ones were the strongest.

"I should dry these," said Krolia.

"Good luck with that," said Keith as it started to drizzle. He instinctively pulled the fur closer around him and huddled closer to the fire. Maybe he should put on the armor again – it was cold in only his undersuit.

"We need shelter too," she added, with a glance in his direction.

He couldn't help but agree.

The carapace of the crab was still nearby; its large back plate scrubbed and cleaned. Keith loaded their few supplies and the furs onto it and began dragging it like a sledge.

They walked all day. Krolia was convinced that there would be a cave in the mountainous spines of the whale. Keith was less sure, and he kept his eyes peeled for trees that could be used to erect shelter.

In the end, they found both at the same time – several miles up the river, there was a grove of trees, and near it, a sandy pocket in the whale's stone shell. It was dark and cold, and even a little damp, but Keith dropped the sledge and collapsed inside. He felt his skin prickling and his sinuses swelling. Oh, he _wasn't _getting sick. He couldn't be. He refused to accept it; maybe he could ward it off by sheer force of will. Just say no.

Krolia dragged the sledge into the cave and started laying out their beds and other things. Keith spent his energy trying to get a new fire started. He just needed to warm up a bit. Then roast a bit of that bear meat (it tasted like gamey pork, though – he'd eaten wild boar and it was kind of like that) and keep up his strength. He was exhausted.

They had no particular assurance, yet, at this time, that their new camp site was free of wild animals. And so it was necessary to keep watch. After they had eaten and the day had faded into a deeper twilight, Keith lay on the floor of the cave, shifting into a comfortable sleep. The floor of the cave was hard, but he was tired enough not to care. He'd slept on hard surfaces before.

Krolia took first watch. He kept looking back over his shoulder at her shape, with the firelight flickering over it, as she stared out at the sky. Finally he turned his face away and tried to sleep.

But he was still thinking. Sure, as a kid, he'd dreamed about his own mother. But by the time he'd got to his early teenage years, it was different. That was when he'd really started to think critically. He'd wondered, then, if his mother, whoever she was, really did love him. If she did, why would she leave him? And then never come back or say another word? Wouldn't she at least have heard about Dad's death? Didn't she know? Why didn't she at least show up to keep him out of the system? Not even the government could find her.

Now he knew why. But it was hard to wipe away all of that anger and bitterness, to expect it to just dissolve and melt overnight into the realization that Krolia exists. What could she do about any of that now?

Just then, the sky lit up in white.

They hadn't had a temporal surge in several days, not since they climbed aboard the whale, and Keith had begun to think that maybe since these whales knew how to avoid the spacetime drop-offs there wouldn't be any more flashbacks.

And so , he wasn't expecting it. He didn't have any time to prepare.

Fleeting images escaped his mind. He knew she could see them. His father's headstone. The empty house.

_No._

They hadn't discussed his father's death.

Keith didn't move. Behind him, at the doorway, he heard Krolia hiss.

There was no other sound but a long silence. She thought he was asleep. Slowly, Keith stirred. He couldn't just… _do _that to her and then not say anything.

He sat up and looked at her. She was still leaning there, but her face was twisted in grief. "He… he's dead."

"I'm sorry."

"No… I'm sorry. He was your father, Keith."

"He was your husband."

"I left you alone." Her soft voice contained anguish.

"No. You didn't know." He crawled over to her and she slid down against the wall until she was at the same level.

"How… how did it happen."

"He went into a burning building," Keith answered. "He didn't come out." She knew his father's occupation.

"That sounds like something he would do." She stayed hunched down and quiet, her face hidden in darkness. "Kevin was as brave and selfless as any Blade I ever knew."

Keith felt tears sting his own eyes. He knew she was right. But to hear her say it… was something else.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," said Keith. "I didn't… I didn't know how to say it." It might have come out worse than this.

"I get it," said Krolia, with a choked laugh of irony. "We're not the kind of people who talk about things. That's what gravity waves are for, right?"

They stayed there as the fire burned down, until Keith finally fell asleep, leaning up against the wall of the cave.


	3. Expectations

There are only 5 maybe 6 chapters in this fic and it's the last one I'm going to write for... a while

* * *

When he woke up, he wasn't cold anymore.

He was hot.

The fire was out, (they should have made a REAL pit for the coals but they didn't have time before night fell) and he should have been cold, but he was hot. There was fire on his breath, like the aftertaste of alcohol that he wasn't old enough to know but he did anyway.

He started to get up and immediately felt his body resist.

_Just say no._

Like _that _ever worked.

Krolia was around the other side of the cave, hanging up her grass ropes to dry. "Morning," he said.

She took one look at him. "Are you sick?"

"H…how did you know?"

"You don't look well. You shouldn't have dark circles after sleeping this long."

He glanced outside the cave, as though he could tell time that way. The broad light of two suns glared down on the whale's surface. Keith rubbed his eyes. His face felt tender and puffy.

"I'll hunt today," said Krolia decisively.

"What? But it's my turn!" He got up and took a swig out of the water gourd, then took a little water in his hand and smeared it across his face. It felt good, and he _was _more awake after that, if still stiff and lethargic. "I'm fine, I can go."

"Let me feel your forehead."

"What?"

She strode over and placed her palm on his forehead, brushing aside his hair. Her hand was cold on his skin, but gentle. After a heart-stopping moment, she removed it, looking concerned.

"You're not _fine_. You're burning up. You stay here."

"But—"

"No buts!"

But he couldn't just _sit _here. They were both stretched just trying to survive, he couldn't be _dead weight. _He didn't know how to put it to her. He'd always taken care of himself, whether in the system or living alone in the house in the desert, even when he'd been sick. It didn't feel right to sit back and let somebody else do the work.

"I'll do the ropes, then," he said. "And bring more water."

She looked at him sternly. "You stay out of the water this time."

"Fine." He rolled his eyes.

Krolia took her blaster and blade, and was gone. Keith sat down to braid grass.

He was warm, but it only made the air around him feel cold. Keith soon took a break from the ropes and got the fire going again. That was better. The smoke was accumulating around the ceiling. They'd need to make a hole up there at some point to let it out.

The warmth from the fire soon matched his internal temperature, and he began to feel drowsy again. He pulled the bearskin around his shoulders and leaned up against the wall as he worked.

It was almost pleasant if he stayed still. His fingers were clumsy, though, and his eyelids drooped. Before long Keith let go of the grasses and slipped back into sleep.

* * *

When he woke up, Krolia still had not returned. His head felt even fuzzier than before. He stirred a little and tried to go back to the grass. He couldn't concentrate on it, though. He felt too tired to focus on it.

He hadn't eaten at all today, but he had no appetite. Well all right then, they'd just conserve provisions. Why bother eating if he wasn't hungry?

But he was smart enough to know that he needed to drink water, especially with a fever. There would be some left in the pots. Ah, yes – and he was supposed to refill those.

When he stood up, and the blanket fell off, the air chilled him. He _really _didn't want to go down to the river and refill the pots. His body was heavy as lead, and maybe it was just the unrealized hunger, but he felt weak and drained.

Keith downed the rest of the water with a single slurp.

It was just at that moment that Krolia walked in with her catch. It was a smaller furred animal that looked like a duck or a beaver. Actually, he was pretty sure that it was just a regular platypus.

She looked happy until she saw him with the empty gourd. He sat back down again ungracefully; he didn't have the energy to keep standing. His head swam.

Her eyes went to the unfinished ropes and to the empty pots. Something inside him cringed. "I'll go now." He got up shakily again.

"No, it's okay, I'll get them."

"You don't have to." He knew she wasn't irritated but something in his mind interpreted those words as passive-aggressive.

"Keith." Krolia frowned. "You're not well. You've been trekking and sleeping in the open. You obviously came down with something from too much exposure."

"Well, that's not my fault, is it?" he snapped. He was tired of being blamed for things he couldn't control.

"Of course it's not your fault!" She seemed confused now.

"I'm just… saying…" the words were sapping his energy. "That's why I didn't do it."

"I know." Her voice softened. "I wouldn't expect you to in this state. That's what I'm telling you, Keith. I want you to rest because I want you to get better."

_So I can contribute again._

"Because I _care_ about you."

_But it was such a small expectation. There's no excuse. _He'd been subject to greater demands before. But… this was different. All she really wanted was for him to take care of himself. And not in the sense that the foster families had wanted him to take care of _himself _so they didn't have to. No, in a sense that was much less selfish.

"Okay," he said. "I'm sorry." He sat back down and tried to work on the ropes again for a while. He'd slept so much that he didn't want to sleep again, but it was hard to be awake with nothing to do. He hated to admit it, but he was _bored. _

Luckily, Cosmo was back too, and the wolf-dog snuggled right up to his lap. "Hey boy." Cosmo whined until Keith petted him. Gradually, the breathing of the dog calmed him, and he could feel a kind of energy flowing into his body. Feeling more balanced, he waited for Krolia to return.

When she came back, she bustled about, doing things that he didn't really have the energy to interpret; he kept her on the edges of his consciousness. He started shivering again, violently this time. His teeth knocked together aggressively, and though he drew closer to the fire, he shook so hard he could scarcely stop his head from knocking against the floor. When Krolia saw this, she gave him the other half of the bear skin.

"Oh. Th.. thanks." He put it under his head. Moments later, though, he felt bad—he had to push it away, and the other one too. He was burning up again, and his skin was practically stinging with heat. He crawled away from the fire.

Krolia frowned and then spread out one of the furs. "Just lay on top of it," she said.

The fever and chills went back and forth again a few more times, and she hovered, appearing concerned.

"Do you need more water?"

"Do I need… sure?"

She brought him the gourd, freshly filled. Drinking it did help somewhat, though it chilled him from the inside and he was back to shivering.

"You don't have to sit… I mean… you can… do whatever you were… I'm going to make it."

Her eyes glinted. "Keith."

"What?" he rasped.

"Don't tell me not to take care of you."

"No one has ever… done this before. It's… I don't know."

She sat on the floor next to him. "Keith. You have… a sense of urgency when it comes to other people needing help. I know this about you, I saw it in the gravity surges."

It was true. He was born with it, maybe; it was innate. He always had a sense of exactly what the stakes were in any given situation, and felt personal responsibility. Maybe that was why he could never just sit back, but always had to be involved.

"Well, I'm allowed to feel the same about you. Other people are allowed to take responsibility for you, and me, most of all. I'm your _mother._"

_Other people_… well, that was a little hard to grasp, but he could maybe, just _maybe, _accept _her_ wanting to take care of him. Maybe. Besides, if it would make her feel better, then he would let her do it.

"Okay."

The chills had passed, and he settled under the blankets into an amorphous state where all sensations faded away and he was floating in a sea of warmth.

With Krolia nearby, he drifted off to sleep again. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning.


	4. Mother

This time, Keith didn't wake up, at least not properly.

He was conscious that he was still at least half asleep. It was all right for a few minutes.

_Why didn't my alarm go off?_

The thought popped into his head unexpectedly. _What time is it? I'm missing one of my classes. Which one? It must be the flight simulator with Iverson._

_Oh no. He's going to lose it._

He tried to get up. He couldn't move. He couldn't even open his eyes. He was conscious of his own slow, steady breathing, sleep-breathing, and he couldn't alter it.

If only he could move a little to slide his legs off the bed maybe he'd wake up.

He slipped down from the bed, grabbed his red jacket from the doorpost, and went to get his shoes. Where were the shoes? Where were the shoes? He was late, he was late for class, he was…

Still in bed.

If he concentrated all his energy into his right hand, he could feel its position. He willed it to move, even just twitch a single finger. If only someone would say something to him, or if only he could open his eyes and look at something, he'd be able to wake up. But he couldn't.

He was so thirsty… and he could picture the cup on the dresser to his right… or was it his left? Where was he? Was it the garrison? Or the castle of lions? He felt a slight spike of fear at the realization that he didn't actually _know_, and it was just enough. With a tremendous effort like lifting mountains he finally managed to force his eyes open.

And didn't recognize anything. Terror gripped him.

_Where the quiznack am I?_

Then he remembered Krolia and the cave and the quantum abyss.

_Oh._

He managed a quick look around the cave. She wasn't there.

_She was here the last time I was awake. She was sitting there. Right next to me._

So where was she now?

A sick terror flooded through him, followed by gut-wrenching despair. _She's gone._

It happened again. Because of course it did.

_She left me she left me_

No… it couldn't be. She was his real mother, right? But what difference did that make? It happened once, it could happen again.

_She left… _He groaned loudly.

No. Not despair, not now. He couldn't articulate it into words, but something inside him rebelled. He was on his own, but that meant what it always meant. He had to _survive._

If no one else was going to take care of him, then he had to take care of _himself_.

Keith pushed himself into a sitting position. His head felt like it was swinging back and forth on a pendulum. He closed his eyes until the world steadied. His head was dense as a sack of bricks, too heavy to think.

He needed water.

_Not so thirsty anymore… I can wait…_

No, he NEEDED water. If he was going to survive. He concentrated on the gourd across the room. It was up on a ledge of the cave where Cosmo couldn't spill it.

_She left me she left me she left me_

He couldn't stand.

_But you have to._

Against all wisdom and common sense, Keith forced himself to his feet. He took a step, swaying unsteadily. One of his knees buckled but he got it back under control. Just a few more steps to the water.

_She's gone._

Cosmo was barking at the door of the cave, but his voice was muted, as though far away.

That was the last thing he remembered.

* * *

He woke to her face over him, her violet hair dangling down past the purple triangles on her cheeks. "Keith!"

"Huh? What?" The words slurred on his tongue.

"Keith! Are you okay?"

"M…"

She continued to kneel over him with frightened eyes.

"Mom."

"Yes."

He was just thinking about how strange it was that he hadn't even _tried _to draw his knife on her before his brain registered what had just come out his mouth.

"You're here."

"I was just out for more water and wood. I was gone for fifteen minutes. I heard Cosmo barking and I came running. You're not hurt…"

"I'm fine." He wasn't sure whether that was _objectively_ true, but the hard reset had cleared his brain a little. He sat up, with help from her hand behind his back. "I tried to get to the water."

"Oh—let me get that for you." She rose and was back in a second. His hands didn't really want to hold the gourd pot—it was large and pretty heavy. She had to hold it and help him drink it, which should have been embarrassing, but he found that he didn't care.

With that done, he began to return to his new default, which was sleepiness.

"Please tell me if you plan to go somewhere," he said, crawling back to his position in the blankets.

"Will do."

Keith stayed quiet, listening to her moving about. His eyes were closed. She had every reason to believe that he was asleep, but she talked anyway.

"Almost finished with these ropes." She moved about noisily. "I think I can sew this skin now, the small pelt will make something too. Less of a coat, but maybe some regular clothes or undergarment, the fur is thinner you know. I haven't got any patterns so I've just got to make something up as I go along. I have never done that before so don't judge me if it comes out a little lopsided."

He didn't respond.

"I just thought, you know, I'd make some low risk food for you. I found some Protuberas. These things grow everywhere. They're white, bland, shouldn't upset your stomach. I hope. They taste kind of like…" she hesitated. "What was that called? A potato."

Then the fire crackled louder and he heard water boiling.

"If you want to eat it. If you feel up to it. I do think you should try to eat something, though."

He didn't know. He was glad she was talking. That was the important part. It gave him something to concentrate on, despite the fact that he couldn't really move, or even think his own thoughts.

A while later she came over with one of the gourd skins, a bit smaller, cut into a bowl shape. It was a sort of potato soup. There were no seasonings, but that probably for the better.

He managed to sit up halfway and eat it. She sat nearby and watched him while trying not to look like she was watching him.

"All right," she said when he was done. "I'm just going to sleep for a while. Here's the water, it's right next to you. Just wake me up if you need anything."

"Ok." He was feeling a little happier now, and more confident that he was going to get better rather than worse. Cosmo trotted up again and lay down next to him – partly on top of him, in fact, and the puppy's already hefty bulk squished his leg.

Cosmo was asleep in minutes, and Krolia shortly after. Keith couldn't have moved if he wanted to.

He watched Krolia for a while. She was still there. She was sleeping, but she hadn't left him. Even when he closed his eyes, he would open them again every few minutes just to remind himself of that fact. Even after it ceased to be a surprise, and the anxiety had dissipated, it was still a happy thought.


	5. Don't Leave Me

yeah, a swear word. i know this is rated K+ so if anyone objects i'll change the rating I just think that "teen" is a little overkill for such a fluffy fic

i can't remove it though.

* * *

Keith drifted in and out of sleep.

It was day, or something like it. She was still there, but he was barely conscious of her. Cosmo got up and then came back and left again. Keith's thoughts ran in circles, messy and uncontrolled.

_Voltron. You have to lead Voltron._

_What? No._

_Keith. If anything happens to me…_

In a flash he saw the empty cockpit of the black lion.

Were the gravity waves back? He couldn't tell. No, this couldn't be them. These scenes kept happening over and over again. It was exhausting. He'd never wanted to lead Voltron. How was he supposed to be a role model for these children when Shiro, the only positive role model he had, was gone? How could he be someone they could look up to? No one could fill Shiro's shoes.

He wanted to sleep, to rest and forget, or else to wake up and clear the clouds from his head. He couldn't do either.

He had lost all sense of time. Had he been sick for three days? Five? Seven?

He was interrupted by a bright, searing light from the cave entrance. Keith groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, but it wasn't enough. The space whale had turned. The direct light of a burning sun, closer than it had any right to be, stabbed into his vision.

"Keith!"

She must have heard him. Then he felt her arms under him. The strong Galra woman had _picked_ him _up_, and she carried him over to the darker, shadowed side of the cave, where she settled him down again.

She retreated and he faded back again.

_Mrs. Henderson was on the warpath. Mrs. Henderson was always on the warpath, but this was special._

_"__Which of you little shits knocked over my coffee!?" Her voice came from downstairs, squealing in rage like a tire on asphalt._

_"__Watch out," said Libby, scrambling up the stairs._

_"__Not-me-not-me," babbled the voice of Mike, the other kid. Of course, it probably had been, but Keith could barely hold the lie against him._

_"__KEITH!"_

_He hesitated. Whether it was better to go down promptly and hope his responsiveness would calm the storm, or shut the door and hope it would blow over… that varied adult to adult._

_But her footsteps were already on the stairs._

He focused on Krolia again as a distraction from his own mind.

"Keith."

He was listening, but scarcely acknowledged.

"I know you're probably asleep, but you wanted me to tell you if I had to leave."

"No." His voice was weak, almost too quiet to be heard.

"What?"

He hesitated. Should he even try to stop her?

"Did you say something?" And then he sensed that she had knelt down and leaned in closer.

"…no." He moved his hand only an inch, placing it on top of her violet fingers.

"Keith, I'm sorry. I have to. I need to get more things. We need them. Don't worry, it'll only be an hour."

His heart sank. An_ hour? _He had no sense of time. That might as well be days and nights. He felt tears spring to his eyes.

For a moment he considered breaking down and begging her not to go. But that would be selfish... and stupid. She NEEDED to go. She had to go. He would have to deal with it. And try to remember. Though if the last days were anything to go on, he'd forget.

"Okay."

"Good. I'll be right back. I have enough rope to tie Cosmo by the entrance. He will stay here."

And her footsteps left the cave.

Maybe he could sleep it away. He closed his eyes.

He was uncomfortable and couldn't pinpoint why. He opened his eyes again. Cosmo's rope was slack. He couldn't see the puppy, and… was that the loop Krolia had put around his neck? He must have wiggled out of it somehow.

And then Shiro walked into the cave. He stooped under the low eaves. He was wearing the Junior Officer's uniform from back in the Garrison days. And his hair… it was brown with no white at all.

"Shiro?" Keith rasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd stop by and check in on you." The deep tones of his voice were soothingly familiar.

"But… I don't understand. How did you get here? You disappeared."

Shiro came over to Keith, and crouched down. "I heard you weren't doing so well. But don't worry, everything's going to be all right." In the warm brown of his eyes, all questions were erased.

Everything shifted.

_She was at the top of the stairs. He found himself shifting backwards, then forwards, fight-or-flight wanting to kick in. The knife was in his pant-leg but it would do him more harm than good in this scenario. He'd been the problem-child who pulled a knife on his foster parents before, and getting the thing back in his possession had proved almost impossible. If he ever tried that again, he knew he'd lose it for good._

_He decided to go out to her. Sometimes boldness could prove innocence. But he didn't get a chance to speak first._

_ "__YOU!"_

_ "__I didn't do it." The poker face that he put over helpless rage was slipping off and he couldn't put it back. That scared him too. He glowered and looked her in the eye._

_ "__You little liar!" Her hand flashed out and slapped him in the face. Even as he flinched backwards, she reached out and grabbed him by the hair. By the HAIR. She was out of control. He'd experienced this before, but it never got less shocking – that soul-baring moment when the illusion of safety is forfeit and all bets are off. Keith yelled in surprise._

* * *

_Mrs. Henderson was on the warpath. Mrs. Henderson was always on the warpath, but this was special._

_"__Which of you little shits knocked over my coffee!?"__Her voice came from downstairs, squealing in rage like a tire on asphalt._

_She was at the top of the stairs. He found himself shifting backwards, then forwards, fight-or-flight wanting to kick in._

_He decided to go out to her. Sometimes boldness could prove innocence. But he didn't get a chance to speak first._

_ "__YOU!"_

* * *

_Mrs. Henderson was on the warpath._

_"__Which of you little shits knocked over my coffee!?"_

_She was at the top of the stairs._

_"__YOU!"_

* * *

_Mrs. Henderson was on the warpath._

And then there was a bright flash, brighter than the glaring suns, bright enough to fill the darkest corners of the cave and drag Keith at least halfway back to reality. He groaned at the assault on his eyes.

It was only minutes later that Cosmo came bounding into the cave. Keith noticed him when he felt the dog's wet nose. Krolia was right behind, stumbling in as though she'd seen a ghost. She was trembling.

"Keith!"

He stared at her from half-lidded eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you. I'm s—" And then she was down on her knees. She put her arms under him and held him tightly. He accepted it limply. A drop of water landed on his face. "You had—I'll go back to Earth just to find that woman and—"

"_Mom."_

"I would. I wish I could."

"_Mo-om_."

As ridiculous as it all was, and in spite of everything, he felt an overwhelming _joy, _intense, almost irrational. _I found her. She's here. I have a mother._

There was only one other thing on his mind. "Where's Shiro?" he asked.

She drew back slightly, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Where did he go? He was just here."

Krolia smiled sadly. "…he wasn't here, Keith."

"…oh." He closed his eyes. "That bad, huh." _You're worse than one of those Victorian Janes from the required reading. _

"Hey," said Krolia at last. "How did Cosmo come untied?" When Keith didn't answer, she slowly began to get up. "He must have wiggled out of the rope somehow. I'll tie him tighter next time."


	6. Recovery

Keith sat up. He was famished and weak but _impatient_ and itching to get _up _and move _around_ and walk and do absolutely anything except lie around any longer.

"I'm starving. Do we have any food?"

"Glad you asked," said Krolia. "I just found this fruit, on a tree. I already ate one. Might be a little more flavorful than the Protuberas, do you want it?"

"YES." And how. He took the fruit from her hand.

Juice dripped down his chin as he bit into the pink, peach-like fruit. His eyes widened. "Oh, holy Quiznack."

"Keith!" Krolia scolded. "Language!"

"Sorry, it's… it's just so _good." _After a week of nothing but Protuberas, the peach was simply overwhelming. He'd forgotten anything could taste like that.

"I'm getting up," he announced, then immediately began getting to his feet.

"Whoa," said Krolia, stepping over to his side as he swayed. "You don't have to."

It was just head rush, and the dizziness cleared a moment later. "But I want to," he said. It felt good to be up again. He walked along the wall in the cave and then outside. The nasty sick-sweat clung to him from the previous days, and he became painfully aware that he _stank._

"I'm going to take a bath."

"What, are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Be careful. I've been making some clothes out of some new skins. They're almost done. I can give you something to take with you. Put this on when you're done." And she handed him what looked like a furry coat, and a pair of soft leather trousers.

"Oh, wow. You made these?"

"You were too out of it to notice. But yes. Also, take Cosmo with you."

Before any of this had happened, he'd have balked at taking orders from her—and did, on several occasions. Now listening to her suggestions seemed only natural.

"Cosmo!" The dog perked up. Keith slipped the rope around his neck and felt it to make sure it was tight. "Come on, buddy. Let's take a bath."

* * *

They walked towards the river. It wasn't until Cosmo bounded up beside him that he realized he was dragging a rope on the ground.

"Cosmo! What?" He reattached the rope and kept walking.

* * *

After the bath, he was cleaner, and significantly less stinky. The cold didn't hurt him that much, it even felt fresh and sharp. Part of that had to do with the fact that the weather had changed; being so close to the suns had heated up the air and it was now warm and summery.

He slipped on the fur trousers and shirt, then wrung out the shirt of his undersuit before bringing it back to the cave to dry.

Cosmo was out of the rope again and Keith had given up putting it back on. The dog clearly had some kind of alien flexibility or something. Maybe he could unhinge his jaw. Or shrink.

Keith picked up a stick. Well, either way, this was one dog that needed to be trained. He was a smart boy. They might as well start with fetch.

"Cosmo!"

The dog perked up his ears.

Keith threw the stick, but Cosmo just tilted his head in puzzlement.

"Fetch!" Keith walked out and picked up the stick, and then brought it back. He showed it to Cosmo, letting him sniff it. Then he threw it again. Cosmo didn't move.

They went back and forth like this for some time. Krolia passed, and he could see the laughter in her eyes, but she just shook her head.

"I don't know why this is so hard," Keith told the dog gravely. "I throw… you fetch. I throw…" he tossed the stick overhand. "…you fetch."

_I say Vol… you say…_

And then right before his eyes Cosmo vanished and reappeared. One moment he was sitting in the doorway of the cave, the next he was about twenty feet away, between Keith and the stick.

He took a step back, rubbing his eyes.

The dog teleports… the DOG _teleports_.

"Mom!"

"What?" Krolia didn't turn around but he saw the ghost of a smile on her face.

He ran into the cave. "You're not going to believe what Cosmo just did."

"What did he do?"

"He teleported. He teleported. _Mom_ the DOG TELEPORTS." He could scarcely contain his astonishment.

Finally Krolia turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Is that _so? _Well, that explains a couple of things."

"I don't see how you're so calm about it."

"Keith, he _fell_ out of the _sky_ and you're shocked that he can teleport?"

Keith made a face and rolled his eyes.

* * *

That night he settled down again – not quite ready for sleep, he felt, he'd slept too much lately. But Krolia insisted that he needed sleep, so he told her he'd lay down a little while. The fire burned low. Cosmo teleported in with a zap. Now that he was comfortable teleporting in front of them, he was suddenly doing it all the time. It was quite alarming, he wasn't used to it yet.

And then, just after Cosmo's _zap, _there was another white flash. The whale rocked with the gravity wave. Keith sat up in a cold sweat, this time not at all illness-induced.

"TRON!"

"Keith, oh my goodness."

Oh no. "Did you _see_ that?"

"I saw that." She was doubled over laughing.

"But I get it now! I get it! You say Vol, I say Tron."

"No, it was_ I_ say Vol, _you_ say Tron."

"I know, you say Vol—"

"No—"

Fin.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story please consider checking out my longer work called "Earth's Champion", which is a take on Shiro's year in Galran captivity. I also have an original webcomic about mermaids, the link is in my bio.


End file.
